


and everybody knows (everybody but you)

by nervousjazzhands



Series: sorry pal i cant afford soulmates i need 2 buy paints bc u have nice eyes [1]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: First Meeting, M/M, Modern AU, Soulmate AU, bed sharing, fluff ig?, its sweet yall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 06:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10380867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nervousjazzhands/pseuds/nervousjazzhands
Summary: Jack Kelly moved out of his apartment to avoid his impossibly gay roommates, only to (maybe) meet the love of his life and become impossibly gay himself.It's sort of an 'out of the frying pan, into the fire' type situation, if the frying pan is Spot and Race making out and the fire is Davey Jacobs.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is one of those 'the first thing u say to ur soulmate is tattooed on ur body' type things, incase it wasnt clear.
> 
> i honestly dont remember where the title is from, i think its from a song by the young veins? whom knows lmao.

The first time Jack walks in on Spot and Racetrack getting together on the couch, he doesn’t say anything. They’re going through a weird time, and it’s not like he hasn’t done worse things on that sofa.

The eighteenth time Jack walks in one his two dearest friends trying to pretend that they’re not soulmates if they have sex instead of talking about their feelings, Jack decided to pay a visit to Katherine.

“‘S not like I’m not _happy_ for ‘em Kath, I just wish they stop being so... touchy-feely, ya know? If I wanted roommates like that I’d just move in with you ‘n Sarah.”

“It’s not like me and Sarah are the only people in New York City looking for a roommate Jack, what about Crutchie? Doesn’t he have a spare room?” Katherine asks, as if she hasn’t asked Jack this all the other time he’s come to her complaining about Race and Spot.

“Crutchie has three cats that make me sneeze. And before you say, Mush’s place has no space for my things, Blink’s roommates scare me, ‘n Dutchie lives too far from my work.”

“I’m just gonna be stuck with them ‘till one of ‘em kills me so they don’t have to pay to invite me to their wedding. I can see the headline now: ‘Handsome and Amazing Artist Jack Kelly Killed by Evil Gay Friends-’” Jack shuts up once Katherine throws a slipper at him.

“You know, Sarah’s brother said he was looking for a roommate, and I heard his place is pretty nice. Use the time you spend complaining to check it out,” Katherine says as she moves over to get her slipper back and sit on the couch next to Jack. “I’ll give you his number and put in a good word.”

~ ~ ~

“Hey, uh, is this the Jackson Building?” Jack asks the dark haired person standing in the lobby of what is hopefully the Jackson Building. He said he’d meet Sarah’s brother to talk about the place, but Jack hadn’t seen anyone until this guy walked in.

The guy looked weirdly shocked by Jack’s question, almost like he didn’t actually know the answer himself. Eventually he stopped staring at Jack long enough to say that yeah, Jack’s in the right spot.

Jack ignores the usual feeling he gets whenever someone says the words written in neat cursive on the inside of his thigh, after learning a long time ago that not everyone who greets him by saying “yeah” is his soulmate. (He’s _not_ bitter, but sometimes he might get jealous of the millions of people like Sarah and Katherine who knew from the start. It’s annoying is all, having to chase after half of New York just because they answered a question of his.)

“Don’t suppose you know Davey Jacobs then? ’M supposed to meet the guy here and talk to him about somethin’.” Jack hesitates before asking this poor guy any more questions, because the dude looks like he’s having the mother of all panic attacks and Jack can seriously relate, but there’s no one else to ask in the lobby.

“ _I’m_ Davey.”

_Shit._

“I’m Jack Kelly, here to talk about the apartment? But I can back if ’s a bad time or somethin’?” Jack is really regretting this whole thing now, because Davey looks really bad off and he doesn’t want to make him feel any worse. Jack knows from experience that it’s sort of hard to talk to new people when you’re as freaked out as Davey looks.

“‘S fine. Uh, just come up now, and I’ll show you the place.” Davey’s running his hands through his hair constantly at this point, and Jack reluctantly follows him because he doesn’t know how to say that he’d _actually_ come back later and not just flake out on Davey without making it weird.

Davey seems to calm down a little in the elevator ride up to his place though, which is good because Jack was seriously afraid he was going to collapse. 

But the apartment is actually really great, and the spare room has plenty of space for all of Jack’s stuff and none of the bathrooms have any weird fungus. The place looks really clean too, which might just be because Davey just moved in, but it’s nice to have an unstained carpet for once.

Jack says that he’ll move in, and leaves Davey to figure out whatever he’s going through.

~ ~ ~

Jack wakes up the next morning with a heavy weight on his chest that turns out to be Spot sitting on his stomach.

“You’re in the wrong room Spot, Race’s across the hall,” Jack says as he blinks sleep out of his eyes and hopes that he’s just having a very strange dream. “No thanks on the morning sex.”

“Firstly,” says Spot as he points an accusing finger at Jack, “You’s got no right to be telling me what rooms I can ‘n can’t be in, _considering_ ,” he pauses for dramatic effect, “ _considering_ that you’s a goddamn traitor.”

“I’ma what?”

Spot’s pacing in front of Jack’s bed now, like he’s a lawyer in some fancy court, hands clasped and everything.

“You’s _moving out_ ,” Spot hisses through clenched teeth.

“Ah.”

Jack’s not really sure what to say, since Spot’s pretty much always this dramatic, so he can’t actually tell if Spot is pissedd at him, or just bored. (Jack has a theory that the only way Spot’s able to be so deadly calm around strangers is because he’s sucha horrible drama queen with all his friends.)

“So what’s you got to say for yourself? Why’s you moving out?” Spot keeps pacing, but Jack’s known Spot long enough that it’s not Big Trouble Is Going Down pacing or Oh Fuck Oh Fuck Oh Fuck pacing. Just your run of the mill Spot Like To Pace pacing.

Thankfully, Racetrack walks through the door before Jack has to say that he’s moving out cause of Spot and Race. Nothing bad would happen to _Jack_ if he would’ve said it, but it probably would’ve set them back another year in whatever’s going on with them and Jack just doesn’t have that kind of time.

“What’s all the yelling about?” Racetrack asks as he stumbles through Jack’s doorway, wearing what is definetly Spot’s shirt and possibly his boxers too.

“Jack’s _moving out_ ,” Spot repeats, although most of the intended venom is lost when he grins cheezily at Race.

“And you’s smiling because?” Racetrack says lazily, and right about then is when Jack zones out of the conversation because lately he’s been getting sort of sick of watching Spot and Race be in love. Hence the moving out.

When Spot is done mooning over Race and tries to get a real answer out of Jack about why he’s moving out, Jack’ll say something about needing more room for his paints or wanting to be closer to someplace, but for now Spot barely even notices Jack sneaking out of his room to get some breakfast.

~ ~ ~

Jack moves out the next day, and even though Spot refuses to help him pack anything (which has less to do with being dramatic and more with being lazy), he manages to get everything over to Davey’s pretty easily.

Davey looks a _lot_ better than he did yesterday, even though he still sort of looks like he’s terrified of Jack. Which will probably make living together uncomfortable, but Jack’ll still take it over Spot and Race.

Jack figures that Davey just isn’t used to sharing a place with another person or something. Jack can’t imagine that he’s _already_ done something to freak out Davey, and he’s expressly forbidden Spot from visiting so Davey doesn’t get the wrong idea about the kind of people Jack hangs around with. (It’s not that Spot’s a _criminal_ or anything, he just has a habit of getting into bar fights and trying to break people’s kneecaps with a cane. Some people find that off putting.)

~ ~ ~

Davey almost burns the house down the first day Jack’s properly living with him. Apparently he was trying to cook eggs, so Jack doesn’t think that Davey’s already trying to get rid of him, but still. How do you even burn _eggs_.

~ ~ ~

It turns out that Davey is capable of burning not only eggs, but every single type of food known to man. Jack’s legitimately worried for Davey’s well-being at this point, and starts getting up early to make breakfast for both of them. That way Jack’s guaranteed to eat at least one decent meal per day, and Davey doesn’t set anything on fire or ruin any more pans.

~ ~ ~

Apparently Davey can cook like… remarkably well. As long as Jack’s not in the house. Which Jack learns when he comes home from a weekend long trip and finds the apartment full of food that Davey apparently made _without him_.

“What the hell?” Jack asks as soon as he finds Davey. “You’ve been holdin’ out on me? _Why?_ ”

“Okay. Okay. For the record! I wasn’t- _holding out on you?_ I just. can’t cook around people?” 

_”Sure.”_

And then the next day Jack watches Davey accidentally pour boiling water on his hand. So maybe he wasn’t actually lying, just weird. Which Jack can survive, as long as Davey _never cooks around people again_. Jesus.

“You really weren’t kidding, were you?” Jack says while he puts some fancy cream on Davey’s burns (Crutchie gave it to them after Davey burned the eggs, Jack’s not even sure what he’d do without the kid honestly.)

“Yeah, no. I can’t cook around anyone. Ever.”

“Well stop tryin’ to, you’ll give a man a heart attack. What’d I do if you set yourself on fire or somethin’? Sarah’d kill me, and probably Katherine’d hide the body and then Race would avenge me along w all our friends, ‘n Spot’d help and he knows like, all of Brooklyn, and then there’d be a gang war because you can’t cook eggs.”

“Sorry?” Davey says sheepishly.

“Nah, don’t worry. They’re’ll probably be a gang war anyway, but it’ll just be about which jedi is the coolest or somethin’.”

“But that’s sort of against the whole point of the jedi?” Davey says, really smiling for the time since Jack’s been around him. It’s nice, to have caused that. 

“I know! That’s what I keep telling ‘em!” Jack leans in conspiratorially. “That’s actually the reason I moved, I didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire.”

Davey’s blushing now, _and_ smiling, and Jack’s smiling back and probably blushing too, and around then is the first time that Jack thinks about kissing Davey.

~ ~ ~

The next times Jack thinks about kissing Davey aren’t particularly noteworthy, mostly because it’s literally every moment after that. It’s very hard to stop thinking about Davey after that, although it’s not like Jack was very good at not thinking about Davey to begin with.

It’s different after that too, although maybe Jack’s just imagining how Davey blushes and smiles more when he’s talking to Jack. And if Jack starts touching Davey more, just casually with an arm around the shoulder, nothing that couldn’t be passed off as friendly and, well. Jack’s already a pretty affectionate guy, always has been. The fact that he always lingers around Davey is purely coincidental.

And if Davey starts touching Jack more too, leaving their hands locked together or putting his hand on the small of Jack’s back, it’s not like he’s going to _complain_.

Jack’s just being a good pal, right?

~ ~ ~

Jack has only lived with Davey for a few months when he spends thirty dollars on being in love with him. He was drawing Davey, because at this point that’s pretty much all he draws, and thinking about how he couldn’t get the color of his eyes _just right_ , so he went out and bought himself a fancy set of paints just for Davey’s eyes.

This might be getting out of hand. 

To be fair, Jack has spent a lot more on people he’s in love with (because what could it be other than love at this point), but that’s usually on dates or whatever. Jack has spent a grand total of thirty dollars on the eyes of a boy who might not even like him all that much.

This has definitely gotten out of hand, Jack thinks while he begins painting in the darks of Davey’s eyes. But there’s no point wasting good paint.

~ ~ ~

Jack wakes up earlier than Davey every day and makes them both breakfast, then Davey’ll go to one of his classes and Jack’ll spend the day painting or just lounging around the apartment. Then Davey’ll come home and they’ll probably get takeout and eat together on the sofa, and then Jack’ll go to work and Davey’ll do whatever Davey does when he’s alone.

Jack realizes how weirdly domestic it is while he’s making toast one morning. He never made any food when he lived with Spot and Race (their stove was broken from when Spot spilled nail polish remover on it), and sometimes he went days without seeing anyone in the apartment just because none of them wanted to be forced to clean. But here he is, making breakfast for Davey in their kitchen with a working toaster and everything.

Davey walks in a few minutes later, looking only half awake. Sleepy Davey is one of Jack’s favorite versions of Davey, with his hazy edges and penchant for leaning over every surface like he’s too tired to even keep his body standing straight. Regular Davey is usually stressed out about at least three things, but Sleepy Davey isn’t awake enough to be stressed. Jack plans to one day make all versions of Davey as carefree as Sleepy Davey.

Which is probably never going to happen, because Davey probably gets stressed out thinking about relaxing. But Jack can dream.

Plus, a stress-free Davey is a better thing to dream about than what Jack usually dreams about. Which, to be fair, is still Davey, but thinking about the abstract concept of Davey is a lot more dangerous than thinking about a specific Davey-related topic.

Sleepy Davey is also a favorite of Jack because he doesn’t notice how often Jack zones out while looking at him. He’s always too busy drinking coffee or trying to sleep more to realize that Jack’s staring at him.

Sometimes Jack wonders if they could be soulmates, in a daydreamy sort of ways. He likes Davey enough that it would probably make sense, and he _did_ say Jack’s words. But so did the postman and that girl at the bar yesterday and half of the people Jack has ever met. He doesn’t put a lot of stock in soulmates, anyway. Jack figures that any system fucked up enough to give him such common words can’t be too great. 

Lots of people are really cautious about sharing their words, like it’s gonna jinx it or something. Jack usually just treats his words like a joke, because at this point they’re not good for much else. He figures that since they’re pretty much pointless for actually _finding soulmates_ , he might as well be able to use them as an icebreaker.

~ ~ ~

Turns out the apartment doesn’t have any heating. Neither Jack or Davey knew this, and the landlord told them that they would have heat, so of course they finally figure it out on the coldest day of winter. And they’re not exactly well-stocked in blankets, considering the fact that they spent pretty much all of their money on rent. So they both put on as many layers as possible and cover their beds in towels and anything they can find, and try not to freeze.

So far it’s not going too well. Jack can’t feel his legs, and he’s pretty sure that he can hear Davey shivering through the walls.

Eventually he gives up on trying to fall asleep like this, and goes over to Davey’s room to try and get some more blankets or something.

“Davey, you have any extra blankets?” Jack hisses.

It’s pretty dark, but the look that Davey gives him probably says enough.

“We should… start a fire or something,” Davey says after a while, voice still clogged with sleep.

“Yeah,” Jack replies, as neither of them get up and attempt to start a fire.

Jack goes over and lies down next to Davey on top of his blankets. The bed is pretty small, but there’s still a good half inch between them. “Don’t think we have any matches.”

Davey looks over at Jack, confused.

“Well we don’t, you used them all up.”

“What? No. Uh, if you’re gonna lie in my bed you might as well get under the blankets Jack. Right? I mean- body heat? Or something. Double blankets. Uh.”

Davey’s rambling, so Jack gets under the covers to shut him up, momentarily forgetting that by getting under the blankets he’s now officially Sleeping With Davey.

It is warmer like this though, although that half inch that was between Jack and Davey has quickly become more like half a centimeter, tops.

Davey seems to have given up on talking and just burrows his face into Jack’s chest to stop from shivering so much. And because Jack is a good friends who wouldn’t let Davey _freeze_ , he wraps his arms around him.

The fact that either of them got any sleep that night is probably enough to prove extraterrestrial tampering, but the fact remains that Jack goes to sleep with his arms wrapped around Davey and wakes up with Davey lying splayed on top of him.

It takes Jack about a minute to remember what happens, and he spends all of that minute freaking out. He also spends most of the next minutes freaking out, because just because he _remembers_ why he’s in bed with Davey doesn’t make it any _better_.

He needs to get out of bed anyway, because Davey is probably going to freak out even more that Jack did and it will be _bad_ and-

Davey’s awake.

Davey instantly tries to get out of bed, but considering that he’s lying under about ten blankets he can’t really get out. He’s also thoroughly tangled in Jack’s limbs, and still probably half asleep.

Eventually he gets himself out of the bed, and leaves Jack cold and alone without saying anything.

Jack gets out of the bed too, and goes back to his room to try his hardest to pretend that he didn’t just sleep with Davey. It’s not even like anything _happened_ , Jack’s tactile enough with all his friends that this isn’t even that out of the ordinary.

But it’s different, because it’s Davey and Davey will always be different than Jack’s other friends. Are they even friends? Jack doesn’t even _know_ , he just knows that he wants to be with Davey. He probably fucked that up though, probably fucked it _all_ up, so he leaves the apartment before Davey can try and talk to him.

He heads over to Spot and Race’s, because he figures one of them will probably be home and considering how _they_ deal with feelings, they probably won’t judge.

He buzzes himself in and gets all the way to the front door before he hears them laughing inside. He can hear Race saying something, and Spot’s cackling, and he decides to head back. There’s no reason to intrude.

Jack’s spent enough time getting over to Spot and Race’s place that Davey should’ve left for class by now though, so he goes back to the apartment and pretends that everything is fine. Thankfully, Davey is gone when Jack gets back, and Jack just goes back to bed and tries to pretend that nothing happened. His mattress got messed up when he took the blankets off though, and can’t sleep. He keeps waking up and thinking that he hears people in the apartment, or kicking off the covers and waking up freezing.

Jack wakes up around noon feeling like he was run over by a semi and sweating all over. He feels hot and clammy and he’s coughing constantly. He also hasn’t eaten or drank anything all day, which probably isn’t helping anything, but the thought of getting out of bed is making him nauseous. Or maybe that’s just the hunger. But Jack’s definitely gone longer without food, so he might be getting sick. Great. 

But, Davey will probably be back soon, and Jack can probably swindle him into heating up some soup or something. Hopefully Davey can do that without setting the place on fire or something.

If it’s not still weird, which it probably will be. Fuck. 

Jack doesn’t have a lot of time to reflect on how this is the _worst_ time he could possibly get a cold though, because he hears Davey opening the door and setting down his things.

“Jack?”

“In here!” Jack calls back, and then starts coughing again.

It takes Davey half the coughing fit to arrive in Jack’s bedroom, where he sits on the bed and offers Jack some water.

He takes the water.

“Are you sick?”

“Yeah. Think I got strep?” Jack asks, his voice still rough-sounding.

Davey shrugs. “Don’t ask me, I never get sick.”

“I’m probably gonna talk less anyway, better safe than sorry, ya know? I know sign language though, if you still wanna talk.”

“You know sign language?” Davey asks, looking mildly impressed.

“Yeah, ‘n italian and some spanish. D’you?”

“Nah, but Katherine keeps trying to teach me french for some reason.”

Jack laughs awkwardly and then starts coughing again, and Davey leaves to try and find some cold medicine.

Jack lies back down and stares up at the ceiling. Thing between him and Davey seem… not bad. Not great, obviously, but nothing that he couldn’t just pretend is weird because he’s sick and out of it.

Davey eventually finds some medicine, and Jack starts feeling a lot better, at least until the sun goes down and it starts getting cold again. Jack had mostly managed to avoid freezing by lying down under all the blankets, but Davey’s going to need to sleep too eventually, and Jack thinks he might _actually_ die if he had to lose any blankets.

And it’s not like Davey could sleep with him again, not without getting sick or making it even weirder, and Jack _tries_ to tell Davey that but. Well.

“I can’t just let you freeze Jack, you’re sick! C’mon, just budge over and neither of us’ll have to get frostbite or whatever,” Davey’s saying, and that’s probably true, but Jack’s not gonna freak Davey out again.

“But I’m _sick_ , ya idiot, and I’m not gettin’ you sick too,” Jack retorts, holding down the mound of blankets that surround him.

“Dude… I’ve spent all day with you, there’s no way that I’m not already sick. Let me into bed.” Davey doesn’t wait before getting into bed besides Jack, turning off the lamp on Jack’s table and lying down like they do this every night.

And that’s probably what gets Jack, thinking about Davey actually doing this every night, that’s what makes all his protests die on his tongue (but if anyone asked he’d say that it was this goddamn cold).

~ ~ ~

Davey wakes up tomorrow just as sick as Jack, and they spent the next few days lying in bed together and coughing their lungs out. Crutchie comes over to visit them, and he pointedly doesn’t comment on the fact that Jack and Davey are sharing a bed. If it were anyone else, Jack’d hope that Crutchie just thought that they were just doing it to share body warmth or something, but he’s _Crutchie_ , so Jack knows that he’ll get an earful once he’s well enough to be properly chewed out.

He and Davey aren’t _doing anything_ , anyway, no matter what Crutchie thinks. Jack’s only now just starting to think that Davey even likes him, and he wouldn’t ruin that over some stupid crush.

Honestly.

So if Jack starts constantly keeping an eye out for Davey’s words, it doesn’t _mean_ anything, it’s just Jack being stupid over some boy. Nothing out of the ordinary.

~ ~ ~

Jack and Davey get better soon enough, with Crutchie’s constantly supply of soup, and Spot bullying the landlady into fixing their heat. They don’t stop sharing a bed though, something Jack couldn’t explain even if he tried. He _obviously_ does not mind, but he can’t for the life of him figure out why Davey’d wanna spend more time with him than he already does.

Davey seems to be spending an awful lot of time around Jack generally too, and he’s always looking nervous, like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop and for everything to come crumbling down.

Or maybe that’s Jack.

Either way, it’s still a little weird every now and then, silences stretching on longer than they did before, conversations trailing off more and more often. Jack figures that it’s just residual weirdness, but it’s not like Jack’s forcin’ Davey to keep sharing a bed with him. It’s usually Davey who crawls into Jack’s bed first, always acting like nothing’s the matter and they do this all the time. Which they do now, really. Davey eventually just took the sheets off his bed and put them on Jack’s, since his are nicer and it’s not like anyone sleeps in Davey’s bed anymore.

~ ~ ~

They’re just sitting around on the couch when it happens, talking about whatever, half-listening to whatever’s playing on tv. Jack had made some joke about how Spot and Race had met, when Spot got in a fight with him and then had to show up with flowers the next day once he realized that they were soulmates.

“You know, nothin’ like that could ever happen to me,” Jack says once Davey finishes laughing.

“Oh?” Davey says, suddenly looking a little uncomfortable.

“Oh yeah, I never told you about how vague my words are?” Jack asks casually, actually not remembering if he’d mentioned it to Davey. Davey never mentioned his words, and Jack figured that he had a reason for never mentioning it, so he never asked.

“Uh, no you didn’t,” Davey says, staring at Jack. “What- uh- what are they?”

“They’re literally just ‘yeah’! I mean what’re the odd right? It’s a drag though, at this point I think halfa Manhattan could be my soulmate.”

Davey looks downright queasy at this point, and Jack feels like a dick for bringing it up, should’ve realized that Davey doesn’t like talking about soulmates by now, _idiot_.

“Yeah that uh… that might not be the case,” Davey says eventually, after a long pause.

“Sure man, I can hope,” Jack laughs awkwardly.

“No, I mean like-” Davey pauses. “So remember when we met? Because uh, you sorta said my words? Because- I have ‘hey is this the Jackson Building’- those are my words- and that’s what you said to me when you met me, right?”

Now Jack’s the one staring because _holy fuck_ , right? It’s not every day that the boy of your dreams admits that you’re soulmates- not to mention the fact that Jack had all but given up on finding his soulmate, and finding out that it’s _Davey_ is almost too good to be true.

“What the hell- why didn’t you _tell_ me, asshole? I’ve been pining after you for months now, wishin’ that we were soulmates, and you’s known all along?”

Davey’s face goes white.

“You- you’ve been _pining_?”

“Of course! You think I make a habit of sleeping with all my roommates? Jesus H. Christ Dave, I think most of New York knew I was gone over you!”

“Well- I don’t _know_ , I thought that you already knew!”

That’s just stupid, why wouldn’t Jack’ve done something if he knew?

“Davey… buddy… you think I would’ve gone all this time without doing anything if I _knew_?”

“I don’t know!” Davey says, waving his hands about. “I thought you knew, and you hated me, or you were straight, or something. I thought you _knew_.”

That’s possibly the dumbest thing anyone’s ever said to Jack. Imagine him, _hating Davey_. (Or being _straight_ , Jesus Christ). That’d be just- awful for one thing, and really stupid.

So stupid that Jack can’t even respond to it, just closes the gap between him and Davey and pressing his lips forcefully against Davey as if to say ‘see how dumb you were. we could’ve been doing this for months, idiot.’

It is not, by all accounts, a particularly good kiss. Davey’s too shocked to do anything, and Jack _did_ basically just jump against his mouth, but eventually Davey relaxes against Jack and pulls him closer, dragging Jack along by his shirt collar. His lips are a hard biting press against Jack’s, pushing deeper into Jack’s mouth, and when they pull apart they’re both breathless.

“Jeez Dave, I didn’t know you had it in you,” Jack says, his lips bright red from Davey.

He kisses Davey before he can reply, twirling his hands in Davey’s hair to pull him impossibly closer. They really both are idiots, not figuring this out for months, not doing _this_ for months.

They kiss for what seems like hours, the slow slide of their mouths on each other lazy and unbothered. Like they have all the time in the world, like the world’s stopping for them.

And Jack knows that’s unlikely, but he figures that if the world was going to end for anyone, it’d be for Davey Jacobs. And he knows that if the world _was_ ending, if he only had another hour or another day to live, that he’d stay right here, on a shitty couch in a shitty New York apartment doing nothing but suck lazy bruises into Davey Jacob’s neck.

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh yeah i wrote half of this at two in the morning so lemme know if u find any typos or w/e. i might write a sprace or newsbians thing in this verse if ppl are interested? idk.
> 
> hmu on tumblr @touchthejabba if u wanna make fun of me for being gay
> 
> edit: turns out i copied this wrong and there was like,, 3-4 paragraphs missing lmao thanks to herme23 for telling me that


End file.
